


Video Games

by zoemargaret



Series: Manager Verse [9]
Category: Football RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoemargaret/pseuds/zoemargaret





	Video Games

Bojan plumps the pillows up behind him and lies back, scratching uncertainly at his stomach. "You sure this is what you want?" He stretches out, the sheets so soft against his skin and he wriggles again, shivering at the cool slide.

Pep smiles at him, uncertainty just touching the corner of his mouth. "If you don't want to do this, Bojan..." He doesn't actually say it, but Bojan knows what he's trying to say. It's so rare he gets to be the reassuring one, the strong one. He smiles at him. "Pep," he trails off. How does he explain how excited he is, how honored, that Pep trusts him enough to ask for this. "Pep, you've done so much for me, this is the least I can do."

Pep smiles. He doesn't move from the foot of the bed, but he does bend down and place a gentle kiss on Bojan's ankle. "Thank you." Almost as if on accident, he drags his fingers over the sole of his foot, and Bojan seizes up in an all body giggle.

"Pep!" he scolds, but the other man just grins at him. Bojan can't even glare, but he does twitch his foot away when Pep makes to tickle him again. He's about to warn him when he suddenly thinks of something. "No one will find it, right?"

With one last stroke along the ankle bone, Pep releases his foot. "I promise. This is for no one but me. And you, if you want."

"OK." Bojan takes one last deep breath. He doesn't think he'll be watching this tape, not considering what Pep's asked for, but he decides that can wait till later. "I'm ready." He bites his lip and looks at the camera through his lashes. He knows that Pep gets off on him being innocent and while he's definitely playing to that, he's not entirely faking his nervousness. He just...doesn't get why Pep wants him to masturbate. If they're going to make a sex tape, shouldn't it be both of them? But Pep's watching him, eyes dilated and cock visible behind his jeans without even a touch. If this is what Pep wants, then he'll make it good for him. With that in mind, he slides his finger into his mouth then traces it down his chest to find his nipple, plucking it just enough to feel it.

"Pep." Pep didn't say anything about talking, but if he doesn't get to touch Pep... "I love you watching me," he tells him, looking at him instead of the camera. "You watching me touch myself like this." He pinches his nipple between two fingers and twists, sighing at the familiar pained pleasure.

Pep catches his breath; at the sound Bojan hisses and runs a rough hand down his stomach, raking his nails just enough to draw delicious lines of pain down his torso. Runs a finger around his bellybutton, shivering at the almost tickle. "I wish this was you," he says, looking at the camera this time. "I love how you touch me. Love the way you," he arches his hips up just enough to bump his hard cock into the back of his hand. "Use your fingers to drive me crazy." He sucks on his finger again, then two then three, thrusting them in and out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. Still keeping his eyes on the camera, deliberately not watching Pep, he swallows convulsively, forcing his fingers into his mouth then pressing them against the inside of his cheek. Finally he tips his head back and pushes them down his throat till he chokes for air. Pep's shivering moan is more than worth it.

Throughout all of this, Bojan doesn't forget about the camera. When he puts his fingers just above his cock, he's teasing the camera just as much as Pep. Talks to the camera, talks to the Pep who will be watching this tape and jerking off to him, to his body, his words. "Love the way you fuck my mouth, the way you taste on my tongue." He finally flicks the head of his cock with a finger, letting the camera see how good it feels.

Pep doesn't say a word, but Bojan can hear him shifting, can hear his quickened breathing, the bitten off moan. Shivering with anticipation, he takes his cock between his thumb and a finger. Holds himself for just a moment, teasing. He doesn't do this very often, too frantic to get off, and he takes the opportunity to catalog how his cock feels. Almost papery skin, strained full and hard and wet from his precome. Puts the edge of his nail to his skin and pushes, just a little. With no other stimulation it just hurts, no pleasure at all and he yanks his hand away with a barely caught whimper. He can feel the blush spreading up his neck to his face, and he can't look at Pep. Instead, he quickly takes hold of his cock again and squeezes himself. Once the pleasure starts pulsing down his spine again, he slows down to a light teasing rhythm, not enough to get off, just enough to edge him higher and higher.

"Pep," he sighs, luxuriously twisting on the sheets as he fights to keep his hand steady. "I wish this was you touching me." He pouts and licks his lower lip; it's not going to be much longer before he's too far gone to tease like this. "Wish you'd come over here, from behind your camera. Put your mouth on my cock. Pep," his voice breaks, "I love your mouth, Pep." He opens his eyes and turns to Pep, lids heavy with lust. "Can I go faster?"

Pep doesn't say anything, only shakes his head. Bojan whimpers, playing up a little for the camera but not much. He glares and deliberately drops the hand that's still playing with his nipple and grabs the base of his cock. Pep makes a sharp sound and shakes his head harder. Bojan lets his cheek rest on the pillow and keeps looking at Pep, so far away at the end of the bed. Please? He mouths, but Pep just shakes his head again. Bojan whimpers but obediently the hand drop. With the other, keeps up that now torturous rhythm. After a minute or so of this, he sticks his hand under the pillow and looks hopefully at Pep. "Can I?"

At Pep's silent nod he flicks it open and squeezes, cold liquid spilling over his cock. He jerks and yelps at the cold. He twists his mouth, ruefully. "I was hoping the cold would calm me down," he admits to the camera. "But it didn't work." His strokes are faster now, slick with lube. He tenses with pleasure, fighting so hard to not speed up. He's so close to coming just like this, but Pep asked for something else.

Bojan reaches under the pillow again. He has to fish around, but he finally pulls out the buttplug Pep had stuck under there last night. He licks the cold silicone, getting it wet and ready for his ass, his slurping loud and obscene in the silence of the room. There's the faintest of moans and Bojan's eyes focus on the other man in time to see him lick his lips Bojan lets the plug slide out of his mouth with one final kiss to the tip. "Do you want to see this in me?" he asks, eyes flickering from Pep to the camera and back. "Want to watch me getting fucked by this toy?"

Pep makes an abortive grab for his cock but doesn't make contact. Bojan gives vent to a breathy moan.

But instead of saying anything, he pulls one leg up to his chest and traces the toy down his cock to nudge just inside him. "Can you see my hole, Pep?" he asks, deep blush from equal amounts of embarrassment and arousal, not used to saying such dirty words. "I'm so empty. This toy-" he pushes it all the way in without pause. Grunts a little at the pain, but then savagely twists it out, body screaming at the loss.

"Fuck Pep. It's not enough, not enough. I want you in me, your big beautiful cock fucking me till I scream." He shoves the toy in again, grinding it directly into his prostate. He whines, the pleasure painful in its intensity. "This isn't enough, I want you. Pep," he pleads, looking straight at him, ignoring the camera. Pep shakes his head again but it's more strained; Bojan drops his head to the pillow in defeat.

But Bojan's never been one to give in gracefully. "You're so sexy Pep," he says breathlessly, pushing up onto one elbow, other hand continuing to twist and play with the plug. "God, your mouth, your eyes, your hands." The lube from his cock is slipping down to where he's thrusting the toy into himself, fingers slippery and dirty in the best way. "I love the way you squirm when I bite your collarbone, the way you moan when I kiss your neck."

"Kiki." Pep mouths the name, almost audible, visibly trembling. Bojan wiggles at the sight, so happy to have made Pep just as desperate as him. His arms gives way and he collapses onto his back. But, now he has another hand free, and he uses the opportunity to again grip his cock, in a tight fist this time. He starts a fast rhythm, fucking himself with the plug at the same rate, the plug just a little more painful that a dildo would be. He watches Pep greedily, his shiny lips and flushed cheeks. God, it's so hot to be watched like this, to know that Pep will watch this later, that Pep can't tear his eyes away from him. It's enough for him to tense with oncoming orgasm, fist slipping on his cock.

"Look at the camera," Pep reminds him, voice so tight with lust it's unrecognizable.

It interrupts Bojan's rhythm and his orgasm recedes. Bojan whimpers in frustration but obeys Pep's order. "God," he grunts. He shuffles both feet up to his ass, eyes on the camera lens. He braces the plug against the bed and jams himself down. The plug stabs painfully and he arches back in shock, his hand spasming on his cock. "Oh fuck," he cries out, voice high and shaky, "Pep, Pep, I'm gonna, I'm gonna..." He drops his head back and curves his hips up, plug shifting to press his prostate just as he begins to come. He screams and twists higher, harder, his cock jerking over and over, warm come splattering over his stomach, his thighs.

Finally, finally he relaxes onto the bed, shaky and sensitive. When he turns his head, Pep is standing by his head, cock jutting out of the zipper of his jeans, red and shiny with precome. Bojan immediately starts to drool. "Please," he says. "Can I..."

Pep puts his thumb on Bojan's lower lip and presses down; Bojan obediently opens his mouth wide wide wide. Pep smiles and shuffles to the left. Bojan's confused, but then he realizes that Pep is positioning himself so the camera doesn't catch him. The idea that the video will just show Bojan slurping on a cock, drooling and begging and loving every second of it. He lunges forward, heedless of Pep's thumb, and slurps on the head, tongue frantically flickering over the head as he luxuriates in Pep's precome. Pep moans high in his throat and steps back. Bojan gives a confused whine and tries to move forward, but Pep stops him with the thumb still holding his mouth open.

"Just like that," he tells him. He wraps his fist around his cock and pulls up and down, twisting on the upstroke. Within seconds he's panting, cock swelling red and angry. He pulls Bojan's lip down further until Bojan's jaw screams in protest, uses his other hand to yank his cock one last time then aims it at Bojan.

Warm come splatters into his mouth, his chin, his cheek. Pep hold his mouth open for all of it, come just missing his mouth. Bojan's struggling forward, to taste him, anything. But then Pep presses the head of his cock against his lower lip so the last spurt bursts into his mouth. Bojan moans and sucks it down, loving every second of it. Once he's swallowed and licked his lips free of every drop he relaxes down on the bed and hisses as the plug inside him twists painfully. Reaching down, he eases the plug out, wincing at the painful emptiness. He lazily drops the toy on the floor and realizes that Pep's standing by the camera, red light still on. "Pep?" he asks, lazy with smug pleasure and satiation.

Pep smiles at him, thumb on the off switch. "Thank you," he says, words vulnerable and terribly, terribly earnest. With Pep's come drying on his face, body aching and tingling with pleasure, Bojan smiles back, no words necessary.

He stretches a hand out to Pep, an invitation.


End file.
